The Unknown
by Bookshido
Summary: In the little town of Blue Ridge, Washington, Sam and Dean Winchester find themselves on a case that is a shock to them: they have no idea what it is or where to start looking. But when they stumble on a lead, it only creates more questions and even less answers.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So guys, this is Bookshido. I hate to put these up, but I need some advice from you guys. If you like this chapter, I would love to write more of this story. But I can't decide on who's point of view to tell the story from, Sam or Dean. So, read this chapter and tell me who you think should tell the story. I have tried to keep it fair with who's opinions are told in which parts so you can make a fair choice and I would love to hear your opinions.

Blue Ridge, Washington

United States

"Are you sure this is the place?" Sam Winchester asked for the sixth time that evening as they drove up a small tree-lined path that cut through a thick forest.

Dean Winchester, his older brother, gritted his teeth in frustration at having to reply to his brother's question yet again. "Yes, Sam, we're almost there. The farmer said two miles up the thin road until we see a small lake. Then take the left fork and keep going."

"I know, I just want to make sure that you know where we're headed," Sam said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He grinned down at the map and then looked back out over the hood of the Impala

The two brothers had spent a good part of the past three days just trying to get the locals to tell them more about a local woman who had been the only eye witness to three different murders. All of them were just about the same. Dean could list the factors out easily:

1\. The same local woman (Who the police refused to tell them the name of) had been at the scenes of the crime.

2\. All of the guys had been at least six feet tall with dark hair and light eyes.

3\. All of the victims had been killed with deep claw marks down their backs, but the scratches hadn't killed them.

4\. The bite to the back of the neck did.

So, it seemed like they were onto something strange in this sleepy town in Washington with only a population of 154. Until they got there.

For one thing, the local cop wasn't someone who they could pull the wool over on. He had obviously been hankering for a case like this since he had been moved to Blue Ridge and was all too happy to see two federal agents walk into his station.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days earlier…

"Well hello gentlemen," the officer at the front desk had greeted the brothers when they walked in. The balding man in his mid-forties was looking at them with a spark in his eyes that they had only seen in people who were too invested in their work or in what others were doing. "How can I help you," he asked, starting to grin.

"I'm Agent Peirce," Dean said, pulling his badge from an inside pocket. "And this is my partner, Agent Brosnan." He gestured to Sam with his badge, who also pulled his badge out and flipped it open. Dean handed his badge to the officer, who studied the badge with glee.

"This seems to be in order," he said, barely able to contain his chuckles. "I guess you're here about the murders."

"Uh, yes," Sam said, stepping forward. "Care to tell us why you're so… happy about this unfortunate situation?"

"Well, Blue Ridge doesn't get very much crime," he explained, walking back further into the station and gesturing for the brothers to follow him. They did and side-stepped several piles of manila files that were precariously balanced on an old fire extinguisher and a coffee pot. Dean stared at the stacks with a mixture of awe and disgust and only broke gaze when Sam coughed. He hurried after his brother and listened to the cop.

"I know every citizen by name," the cop continued, unlocking the door to his office. "The worst I deal with is public intoxication and cow tipping."

Dean rolled his eyes. This would be even easier than he thought.

"But it wasn't always that way," he said, smiling at them and opening the door. Inside, it was pitch black and the cop switched on the light.

Sam was nearly blinded by the shining golden and silver that appeared when the light turned on. When he was finally able to blink away the pain, he saw that the entire room was filled with trophies and plaques. They glittered over every inch of wall space and across the desk.

"I am Martin Espenoza," the cop said proudly, going to the desk and taking a seat. "Former investigative officer for the LAPD Homicide department."

Sam raised an eyebrow with surprise and went inside. He took the seat further into the office and snorted when he saw Dean's expression when he saw the trophies and plaques.

"I moved here with my wife a few years ago to try and get away from that life," Martin explained, seeing their shocked looks. "My life and my family's lives were threatened multiple times by gangs, terrorists, drug lords, and most of the underworld there. A town of one hundred fifty four people seemed to be the perfect cure." He started chuckling. "But I'll admit that I miss the action."

"Looks like you got a pretty big dose of it," Sam said, chuckling.

"Looks like I did," Martin replied, chuckling as well. "I also can't say that I'm not glad to see you two."

"Thank you," Dean said curtly, smiling and nodding.

"So," Martin said suddenly, getting up and turning around to open the blinds. "I've heard that you two have been asking around town for the woman we reported at each crime scene."

"Yes, we were hoping-," Sam said, getting cut off by the officer.

"Well, I can't tell you anything about her," Martin said apologetically. "She simply called from a payphone, reported the crimes, stated that she was there and was a witness, and then hung up. There was no sign of her at all near the body."

"How do you not know who she is?" Dean asked sharply.

"Well, I do, and so do the people of this town," Martin said. "But we aren't going to tell you or any other agents unless we have a damned good reason to."

"You're supposed to be a good guy," Sam nearly shouted. "You're supposed to help people and other cops stop this kind of thing from happening."

"Please calm down, Agent Brosnan," Martin said, giving him a dark look. "Shouting won't help anyone."

"Then tell us who she is," Dean snapped. "And we'll stop shouting and get out of what little hair you have left."

"I won't," Martin snapped back. "If you want her name, you'll have to find her yourself."

He began digging in his desk and pulled out a thick folder. He squinted at the red lettering on the front and then tossed it onto the desk in front of them. Sam reached out and picked it up, reading the case name.

"'The Cat Scratch Killer'?" Sam asked, passing it to Dean to read, who let out a very loud snort.

"We try to make it a bit more fun than just labelling it with a number and year," Martin explained. "That's all we have, minus the woman's name. Feel free to take it with you when you go."

Sam nodded his thanks and rose to leave. Dean was still bristling and watched the officer with dark eyes. Sam had to shake his shoulder to get him moving and Dean nearly jogged out of the police station.

"I hate small town cops," Dean growled when they were outside. "I don't care how many wards he's won, I don't care who threatened him, I just want a damn name."

"Chill out Dean," Sam said, going around the back of the Impala to the passenger side door. "We can solve this case without the name. It's not like we haven't solved harder cases than this with less."

Dean continued grumbling, but got into his car and waited for Sam to climb in and settle into the leather seats.

"I need a drink," he grumbled, turning on the purring engine of the Impala and pulling away from the police station.


End file.
